


Nightmare

by rhimar



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Fluff, Signals Part 2, but i like to think theres a sweet brotherly moment at the end, its kinda sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 20:15:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19708627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhimar/pseuds/rhimar
Summary: Post Signals Part II (and I guess timeline wise, technically post Chain Reaction, but Signals is the focus episode).Alan suffers nightmares after almost losing Thunderbird Three finally sucking up his pride and going to Scott for brotherly hugs and comfort.





	Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a sucker for an "Alan has a nightmare and Scott comforts him" fic, so this is my take. Cross posted to my Tumblr @thunderbirdthree

Alan watched as Thunderbird Three flew away, getting smaller and smaller until it was nothing more than a spec in the distance. She was gone, Havoc had taken her and now Alan was stuck out in this junk yard. He turned around to look for Kayo, but she was gone from his side.  
“Kayo?” He called out. There was no response.

  
“Kayo!” He tried again, but nothing. He opened his comm line,  
“John? Can you hear me?” But there was nothing. He was alone. A bubble of fear began to rise in his chest. He moved through the junk yard, calling for Kayo, calling for John, for anyone to hear him. He wasn’t even trying to hide the panic in his voice. His heart was pounding, and his breathing was heavy, the oxygen monitor on his suit clicked down, nearing zero.

  
He was going to die. Out here, alone. He was going to die, vanishing just like his father. His panic was full blown, tears streaming down his face, he tried to scream, but there was no air left and no sound came out.

  
Alan jolted awake. He lay on his pillows, breathing heavily as the nightmare played over and over in his mind. His cheeks were wet with tears, and he felt sweaty all over, his chest was tight and his throat was scratchy, like he had been trying to scream and nothing had come out. He pushed himself into the sitting position and glanced over at the door. He had been having this nightmare in some form ever since Havoc stole Thunderbird Three. It changed slightly, shifting between three different scenarios, sometimes he was able to get his ship back only for them to crash into the moon sometimes Havoc disabled all the controls and he was left to drift aimlessly. One thing was always the same though. He was always alone. So far he had avoided waking his brother’s up at night, and he thought he was doing a pretty good job of hiding his sleep deprivation during the day. Between International Rescue, building the new Zero-X and helping Gordon rehab his injury, he really didn’t want to give his brother’s anything else to worry about. Besides, he was old enough to take care of himself after a nightmare, he didn’t need to wake his brothers, well Scott really, over something so trivial. He was sixteen! Practically an adult for crying out loud! He rolled over and checked the time, 5:30AM, early, but not too early to get up and go for a run or something. He slipped out of bed, and headed out of the house and down to the beach.

  
By the time he got back the rest of his family was up and moving about the house. Scott was helping Gordon to the couch in the living room while Virgil had managed to chase Grandma out of the kitchen, and was making pancakes. He looked up as Alan walked in through the door.  
“Good morning, Al.” Alan grinned, stealing a pancake off the plate as he made his way upstairs to shower. The run had woken him up, and looking in the mirror he was glad to see that there was no super prominent dark circles under his eyes.

  
The day past as smoothly as a day in the lives of International Rescue could. Movie night was canceled after Scott and Virgil got called out to Shackleton Nuclear Power Plant, but Scott had awful taste in movies so Alan wasn’t too disappointed. Eventually though, night had snuck up on them again and Scott ordered Alan to bed. He lay in his dark room, wanting to avoid going to sleep. He heard as Virgil helped Gordon into bed in the next room over before making his way down the hall to his own room. Scott came up half an hour later. Alan closed his eyes as Scott creaked the door open, probably trying to catch Alan in the act of playing video games when he was supposed to be sleeping. Seeing Alan in bed he closed the door and Alan heard him enter his own room across the hall.  
When they had moved into this house all those years ago, Scott had purposely made sure his door was the closest to Alan’s because of just how often Alan would traipse into his room and climb into his bed in the middle of the night. Those days where long past now, Alan couldn’t remember the last time he had sought comfort from one of his brother’s in the middle of the night. He supposed it must have been around the time his dad has disappeared, but that time had been so difficult and stressful for them all that Alan had done everything he could to not make his brother’s worried about him. The bedroom situation hadn’t changed though, everyone had made their space their own and the idea of shuffling had never even been brought up.

  
The hours ticked on. Alan could hear Gordon’s snores through the wall. Down the hall the cuckoo clock that had belonged to their mother’s mother let him know it was 3AM. He was so tired, and he couldn’t hold out anymore, his eyes slipped shut.

  
The dream was the one where Thunderbird Three crashed into the moon because he couldn’t pull her up in time. It seemed to play out the same as usual. He was alone in the cockpit, unable to stop her in time. Crying out for Kayo, his brothers, for anyone to help him. His lifted his arm to cover his face as his beautiful ship smashed into the moon. Every other time he had had this dream, this was the point he had woken up, but this time, it just kept going. He crawled through the wreck which was Three, desperately trying to find a way out of the crumpled hunk of metal. He found a hole, and crawled out onto the surface of the moon. He stood in front of his broken ship staring at the Earth far in the distance. He tapped on his comms again, trying one more time for some kind of response, but it was silent. Everything was silent. The oxygen monitor beeped in his suit, he only had 15 minutes of air. He could see his home, off in the distance. At least in the junkyard he didn’t have to suffocate thinking about how home was so close, here he would die in the shadow of Earth. He fell to his knees, sobbing, screaming into his helmet, not even caring about air. The Oxygen monitor clicked downward, it was getting harder and harder to breathe. His vision was going black in the corners, the monitor beeped wildly, empty. His vision went totally black.

  
Alan bolted up in bed, hands clutching at his throat as he drew in sharp shallow breaths. For the second night in a row he woke up with tears staining his cheeks, throat raw from silent screaming. The cuckoo clock cooed for 4AM.  
Forget all dignity. He needed his brother.

  
He slid out of bed, and padded across the hall to Scott’s room. He creaked open the door and eyed his brother soundly asleep in his bed. Scott wasn’t usually a deep sleeper, but he had been on a stressful mission today, and after those, he was hard to wake. For a second Alan second guessed himself, and was about to close the door, but something stopped him. He didn’t want to be alone. He couldn’t be alone. He had to know it was all a dream.  
So he pressed forward, tiptoeing across the hardwood floor, grateful that Scott was an exceptionally neat person, because tripping and falling flat on his face was the last thing he needed in this emotional state. Reaching the edge of Scott’s bed, he looked down on his brother before taking a deep breath and climbing next to him, not daring to move the covers. Scott stirred, one eye opening.

  
“‘Lan?” he slurred, “wa’s wrong?” The lump reformed in Alan’s throat and he couldn't trust himself to speak. Scott was more awake now, reaching over to turn on his bedside light. The room was illuminated and Alan felt as though he was under a spotlight. Scott took one look at the tears that were still rolling down Alan’s face, and pulled him into a hug. Alan pressed his face into Scott’s white shirt. It smelled like the lilac scented detergent Grandma liked to use. Scott ran his hand up and down Alan’s back, holding him tight against his chest, not saying anything, just offering silent comfort.

  
“Do you want to talk about it?” He eventually asked, softly. Alan shook his head, he didn’t trust himself to open his mouth right now.  
“Ok. Not right now then.” Scott said. Alan knew that Scott wasn’t going to forget this, and he wasn’t going to let Alan pretend it had never happened, but for tonight he wasn’t going to press and for that Alan was grateful. Maybe in the daylight it would be less painful.  
Scott managed to one handedly tug the covers out from under Alan and shimmy them both under them, still holding Alan close. He turned the light off and pressed a kiss to the top of Alan’s head.

  
“Get some sleep Allie, I’m not going anywhere.” He started humming, an old lullaby that Alan vaguely remembered someone, probably his mother singing to him when he was a baby. Alan pressed his face farther into Scott’s shirt, smelling the lilac, feeling the steady beat of his brother’s heart under him. He wasn’t alone. Thunderbird Three was safely in her hanger and Alan was safe. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

  
And Alan did.


End file.
